


Riddlergordon Fics

by tunglo



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-23
Updated: 2018-05-23
Packaged: 2019-05-12 23:56:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14738204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tunglo/pseuds/tunglo
Summary: Because I was in a Jim/Ed kind of mood...(You can find my other RiddlerGordon ficHERE.)





	Riddlergordon Fics

**Author's Note:**

> Set in S1; Jim gets to play at being a hero.

“I’m going to kill him!”

Jim raised an eyebrow but otherwise focused on the report he was writing. Harvey kicked away from his desk, only growing more agitated. Gestured vaguely in the direction of the lab and curled his fingers like he was imagining strangling someone.

Only went on to confirm it, teeth flashing as he ranted that he’d wring Ed’s neck if he so much as dared show his face again that morning.

“Think of your blood pressure,” Jim suggested, bland, and looked up just in time to see Ed hugging a clipboard to his chest, mouth open waiting for the moment to interrupt Harvey’s ranting.

It probably shouldn’t have been so funny.

He smiled at Ed anyway, helpless, and Harvey followed his gaze to twist around and jump out of his skin in reaction.

To jab a finger at Jim and tell him that this was his problem. That there was a danish and a beer somewhere his name on it.

“I get the impression he doesn’t like me,” Ed told him, prim and proper, and Jim shrugged easily and motioned at Harvey’s empty chair,

“I get the impression he doesn’t like anyone.”

Ed smiled back at him, shy, even as he perched on the very edge of the seat, glancing anxiously around like he expected Harvey to return any second and haul him out of it.

Jim waited a long moment. Prompted gently because he really did need to get his report finished. Watched, fascinated, the light flush that spread across Ed’s face as he hurriedly explained what had brought him up from the belly of the building.

Grew more excited the more he talked, pointing out the inconsistencies between Reilly’s confession and the angle of the entry wound, until Jim was up on his feet and peering at the diagrams Ed had brought with him.

The enthusiasm was infectious. Flared in his gut and sparked in his fingers, because this was the kind of thing he had joined the GCPD for. To keep the people of Gotham safe. To prevent miscarriages of justice.

He was moving before he could think any more about it. Only remembered his manners at the last moment and squeezed Ed’s shoulder in thanks before barreling down the steps of the precinct and over to some typically dingy Gotham club, where he got a frosty welcome and a few new bruises in exchange for the information he wanted.

It was only later, when Harvey was giving him a dressing down in front of the rest of the station for being such a reckless brain dead idiot, that he had chance to reflect that it probably had been kind of foolhardy going into the Narrows without backup.

“I thought it was very brave of you,” Ed told him when he was finishing up for the evening, still smarting from the humiliation, having crept up silently behind him, “Gotham has been waiting for a hero.”

Jim would have laughed at that. Thought of the terrible things he had already done since returning to Gotham - the bad things he would doubtless go on to do should he stay in the city. The memories of his actions in the army. But Ed was looking at him so earnestly, so convinced of what he was saying, that Jim could do nothing but give him a downcast half smile.

“I’m no hero, Ed. I’m not so sure they exist outside of story books.”

Ed had no comeback.

Except the following morning saw Harvey spitting his coffee back into the mug and swigging mouthfuls of who knew what from his hip flask. Jim wasn’t blind to the sight of Ed stepping away from the coffee pot on the other side of the room.

Harvey wasn’t the jackass he had initially pegged him as, maybe, but he wasn’t undeserving of some over bitter coffee either. It meant Jim waited until lunchtime to pull Ed aside. Meant it tugged at something inside him when Ed’s expression fell almost comically, in response to his statement that he couldn’t go around riling up senior detectives.

“Not,” he softened, just to ease the uncomfortable sensation in his chest, “that I didn’t appreciate it.”

Ed perked up at that. Went back to whatever it was he was doing with that hammer with a smile on his face, and Jim couldn’t help the answering smile that curled across his own face a few days later, when he opened his locker and found a neatly typed report containing statistical analysis on the word ‘hero’ in the evening newspapers

“Don’t know what you got to be so happy about,” Harvey groused beside him, thinking of the stake out ahead of them and the early start in the morning, and Jim only hid the report behind his waterproof and purposefully riled the man up by telling him it was none of his business.

His thoughts kept returning to it though, the hours of observation crawling by in a funk of boredom, and later still, alone in his miserable new apartment, he let his mind wander further along the path it wanted to investigate. Let himself think about smiles meant only for him and long, elegant fingers working him as sure and precise as any of the scientific instruments back at the precinct.

He felt embarrassed of his actions in the morning. Faintly ashamed of himself for his lack of professionalism. Stared too intently at Ed’s hands, all the same, and wondered if he would have to lean up for their first kiss or if Ed would bend down.

It was inevitable that he would be called out on it eventually. Ed was a clever guy and Jim had never been the most subtle admirer.

Was getting berated by Harvey for staring off into space, Ed as invisible to the older man as the final notice demands Jim had seen strewn over the coffee table at his apartment, and though he snapped his attention back to his paperwork, it wasn’t fast enough to miss the way Ed’s brows drew together in consideration.

To feel the first tendrils of hope unfurl within him.

This was Gotham though, and nothing played out easily. Nothing was simple - nothing was even what it seemed - and he was just checking his wristwatch to gauge how much longer he was likely to be stuck at the desk for when a commotion broke out down in the bullpen.

“Hold your fire,” he heard himself yell, loud and authoritative, and he supposed nobody but he would ever know how his knees wobbled like jello. The all-encompassing panic that flashed through him because the assailant was drunk and demanding silence, but Ed couldn’t keep his mouth shut even with a gun pressed to his temple.

He managed to talk the situation down. Handed the firearm straight over to Harvey’s waiting hold, and didn’t even protest when McKenna bent the guy’s arm at an angle that wasn’t taught at the academy as he put the cuffs on him.

Ed was flying high on the adrenaline, rather than collapsing into the nearest seat like Jim might have expected, and somehow it ended with him volunteering to see the man home because Essen ordered somebody do it but everyone else had fidgeted and looked down at their feet in the hope of being absolved of the responsibility.

It was no hardship though and he said as much.

There was nothing he would rather be doing with his evening.

“I was not injured,” Ed told him calmly, “there is no need to lie to make me feel better.”

“I try not to lie. They have a way of coming back to bite you.”

That was the truth, plain and simple, and the silence stretched for a long moment. Long enough for him to resign himself to another night staring at his four walls. Long enough for it to blindside him when Ed said quietly,

“In that case, won’t you come in? Let me thank you for being my hero.”

Jim swallowed thickly, the words playing to the part of him he worked to keep hidden. The part of him that wanted nothing more than to have its ego stoked, and be praised in spite of all his failings.

Ed bent down to kiss him when they made it inside, a sudden jittery movement, lips dry and nerves on full display. Jim blinked at him when Ed pulled away again, just as sudden, and then they were kissing properly, eagerly, him pushing Ed’s jacket from his shoulders and Ed’s fingers tugging at the knot of his tie.

His lips found the column of Ed’s throat, waves of heat flooding over him at the way Ed gasped and panted, clinging tight to him like it was the first time anybody had ever touched him there.

Perhaps it was, he conceded, and a better man - a real hero - would have backed off then and slowed things down. All he could do was press himself into the surprising strength of Ed’s thigh and kiss him again, the slick slide of tongue against his own robbing him of all his good intentions.

They ended up on Ed’s bed, proving that there was a lot to be said for an open plan layout, Ed’s fingers pulling at the short strands of his hair as he tugged clumsily at Ed’s belt buckle.

“Is this okay?” he managed, as though his hand wasn’t already pushing beneath Ed’s waistband, and Ed only clutched him tighter and nodded frantically. Made a series of desperate noises that told Jim this wasn’t going to last long at all.

He wasn’t complaining.

Shifted down the bed instead, gaze meeting Ed’s dark eyes for a moment, only making him want it more. Then he was swallowing around him, out of practice but greedy, the heel of his palm pushing hard against himself even as Ed’s grip held him in place, too far gone to be restrained or gentle.

The gush of bitter fluid against his tongue was too much. The cry of his name filling the air was more than he could stand.

He was on his knees in an instant, one hand braced on the mattress and the other tugging furiously at his dick. Ed looked up at him adoringly, sweaty hair in disarray and limbs sprawled boneless around him. His shirt pushed up to reveal his stomach, a couple of buttons missing, and Jim had to bite back a groan, coming hot and hard over Ed’s pale skin.

“That was,” Ed started when Jim collapsed beside him, spent and breathless.

“Good?” Jim asked, wincing at the question in his tone, but Ed only pressed a kiss to his forehead.

Assured him with an earnest “very” then went on to conclude, “messier than I was expecting.”

Jim smiled into the sheets. Could practically see the curious expression on Ed’s face as he tested the consistency with thumb and forefinger. Looked up just in time to see Ed lick at his finger, experimental, his own body twitching in hopeful interest.

“We can go clean up afterwards.”

“After what?”

Jim got the impression, as he was pulled into another sudden kiss, that Ed didn’t need it spelled out for him.

**Author's Note:**

> As ever, feel free to chat / hit me with prompts over on Tumblr [@serenwib](http://serenwib.tumblr.com/) or Twitter [@falsteloj](https://twitter.com/falsteloj). :)


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